


Holding on Tight to You

by angellwings



Series: You Are Mine [1]
Category: Chicago Fire
Genre: Drunk Sylvie, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, One Shot, Post-Season/Series 08 Finale, Prompt Fic, Smitten Matt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:13:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24962107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angellwings/pseuds/angellwings
Summary: Emily Foster’s last shift with 51 ended that morning. Immediately afterward, Foster, Brett, and Kidd left for Severide’s cabin. Tomorrow night Herrmann would be throwing her a goodbye party at Molly’s and then the night after that, her actual last night in Chicago, Foster and Sylvie would be hanging out alone. Tonight, Matt knew, would be about the three women of 51 letting loose and likely getting drunk off of their asses.Tonightwasn’t for lifelong memories.Because of that, he’s glad they opted for Kelly’s cabin instead of bars or the nightclub scene. He knows it isn’t technically his place but he still would have worried about a drunk Sylvie ending up in a precarious situation. He also knows Sylvie is more than capable of taking care of herself. She’s proved that time and time again, but worrying is in Casey’s nature -- especially when it comes to people he cares about.
Relationships: Sylvie Brett/Matthew Casey
Series: You Are Mine [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1807126
Comments: 21
Kudos: 116





	Holding on Tight to You

**Author's Note:**

> **A/N:** Hello, friends! So I played a little game on Twitter Friday where I asked people to pick random numbers and then used those to match up with certain prompt lists. I have nine prompts total and I’ve mixed and matched them into 3 different one shots. This is the first one. See the note at the end for the prompts!
> 
> Happy reading!
> 
> xoxo
> 
> PS - I’ve been obsessed with Frozen this weekend and once I finished this one shot I realized this song was PERFECT for it! It makes me happy!

_“Like an old stone wall that'll never fall,_

_Some things are always true._

_Some things never change,_

_Like how I'm holding on tight to you.”_

_-“Some Things Never Change” from Frozen II_

Emily Foster’s last shift with 51 ended that morning. Immediately afterward, Foster, Brett, and Kidd left for Severide’s cabin. Tomorrow night Herrmann would be throwing her a goodbye party at Molly’s and then the night after that, her actual last night in Chicago, Foster and Sylvie would be hanging out alone. Tonight, Matt knew, would be about the three women of 51 letting loose and likely getting drunk off of their asses. _Tonight_ wasn’t for lifelong memories. 

Because of that, he’s glad they opted for Kelly’s cabin instead of bars or the nightclub scene. He knows it isn’t technically his place but he still would have worried about a drunk Sylvie ending up in a precarious situation. He also knows Sylvie is more than capable of taking care of herself. She’s proved that time and time again, but worrying is in Casey’s nature -- especially when it comes to people he cares about.

And there’s no denying Sylvie is someone he cares deeply about. Not after the last few months, anyway. So far in 2020, he’s spent more time with her than anyone else and that includes his best-friend-slash-roommate.

The very same best-friend-slash-roommate that’s approaching him now with his phone to his ear and dry amused smirk on his face.

“Yeah, yeah okay,” he says as he stops next to Matt, where he’s sitting at the bar. Molly’s is packed tonight, with the noticeable exception of his favorite paramedic. “Stella, take a breath. I’m on my way and I’m bringing Casey.”

“You are?” Casey asks before taking a sip of his beer. “And bringing me where exactly?”

“Stella, you gotta let me hang up if you want me to--” He stops himself, chuckles, and then removes the phone from his ear. He blinks at the screen and shakes his head. “Well, ya could have let me say bye first at least.”

“Everything okay?” Matt asks.

“Yeah, fine,” Kelly says as he waves Herrmann over. He hands Herrmann a wad of cash. “This is for my tab and his. We gotta go.”

“His tab’s just the one beer,” Herrmann says with a scoff. “Talk about a cheap date.”

“I just got here,” Matt calls after him defensively. He turns to Kelly as he continues. “I mean how many beers am I supposed have finished in a half hour?”

“Anyway,” Severide says, clearly trying not to laugh. “The girls got themselves locked out of the cabin and broke a window trying to get back in. I need to take the spare key and help boarding up the broken window. You mind?”

Casey snorts through a chuckle. “Exactly how drunk are they?”

“You ever watched Foster drink?” Kelly asks rhetorically. “No one can keep up with her. If that’s what Kidd’s been trying to do all night then I’d imagine...pretty drunk.”

He’s seen Sylvie after trying to keep up with Foster once before. Imagining it now makes agreeing to drive Severide up to the cabin the easiest decision he’s made all day. 

When they arrive, it’s late and the girls are standing outside in their pajamas with huge cardigans wrapped around them. They all look a bit sheepish, but despite the embarrassment Sylvie is wearing a wide smile. She jumps at Severide when they come into view, hugging him tightly. Kelly pats her back awkwardly, chuckling through the action.

“Good to see you too, Brett,” he says. 

As she pulls out of the hug she places a loud smacking kiss on his cheek. “Thanks for saving us!” 

Foster shakes her head while wearing an amused grin and pulls Sylvie off of Severide. “Brett thought she saw a deer and Kidd closed the door behind us when we ran after her. The lock must be tricky or something because I couldn’t get it open.”

Severide nods. “Yeah, it sticks. I keep meaning to replace it.”

Matt knows the moment Sylvie finally registers his presence because her eyes go wide and round, somehow making the blue of her irises stand out even in the pitch black.

“Matt!” She exclaims.

He tries to brace himself for the impact as she pulls herself free of Foster, but in the end she hits with such force that a grunt is still pried from his throat. Her arms coil around his middle and she tucks her head under his chin. What choice does he have but to return the embrace? Besides, now that she’s snuggled against him...he doesn’t hate it.

“I didn’t know you were coming!” Sylvie says, speaking slowly but joyfully as she pulls back from the hug. It’s clear it’s taking a lot of effort not to slur her words. 

This close he can see the flush in her cheeks and the lack of focus in her stare. She is definitely drunk. 

“Severide recruited me,” he explains. “Something about a broken window.”

Sylvie nods, sluggishly. “Stella threw a rock at the window in the door.”

“I thought I could reach through and unlock the door!” Stella yells. “And we weren’t going to tell them who did it, Brett!”

She winces dramatically and then blinks her innocent doe eyes at Stella, all while keeping one arm around Matt and resting her head on his shoulder. Jesus, this woman is adorable. “Oops. Sorry! I forgot!”

Severide glances between the small half circle window at the top of the door and then deadbolt that’s at least three feet below it and then back to Stella. “Are your arms longer than they look or…”

Kidd crosses her arms over her chest and glares at Severide. “Shut up! I’m drunk, okay? I’d like to see you do better after drinking as much tequila as we have!”

“I tried to tell her not to do it, but she’s freakishly strong after she’s been drinking for a while,” Emily tells him. 

“I’m aware,” Severide says with a wolfish smirk. “Usually, I don’t mind.”

Sylvie’s nose scrunches up in disgust. She looks up at Matt while she whispers commentary for just the two of them. “I don’t think I wanted to know that.”

He laughs and tries to cover it by rubbing a hand over his chin. He brings his arms back around Brett when she wobbles on her feet and holds her tighter against his side. The chill on her clothing and the red tip of her nose remind him that none of the girls are dressed for the nightly spring chill. 

“We can probably save the discussion about how this happened for when we get inside,” Casey says in an attempt to remind everyone why they’re here.

“Right,” Severide agrees. “Good idea.”

“Oh!” Sylvie says suddenly. “I forgot!”

“Forgot what?” Matt asks.

She reaches up and frames his face with her hands. He doesn’t register what’s happening until she’s gently pulling his cheek to her lips. Unlike the kiss with Severide this one isn’t loud and smacking. Her kiss to Severide’s cheek earlier reminded Matt of the kisses his niece used to give him when she was a toddler. Childlike and playful. Neither of those descriptors applied to this one. It was soft and lingering, but still too quick for Matt’s liking. Just as he’s beginning to savor the attention, she’s pulling away.

“I can’t give Kelly a thank you kiss and not give you one too,” she says with a giggle. “I mean you did drive all the way up here to save the damsels in distress. You deserve it.”

“I resent being referred to as a damsel,” Foster mutters. “Can somebody please open the damn door?”

“On it,” Kelly says after tossing Matt a quick knowing grin.

Based on that grin, he must look totally shell shocked. He has to pull it together or else he’s going to completely give himself away.

Since the door isn’t locked, just jammed, Severide doesn’t even have to use his key. He jiggles the knob and then pulls up on it before using his shoulder to carefully shove it open. The door slides over broken shards of glass from the window. Severide guides Stella over it, as she seems just as unsteady on her feet as Brett, and then motions for Matt to lead Sylvie inside. He steps in first and then tries to lead Sylvie around the pieces. She’s almost made it when she trips over her own feet. He lurches forward and barely catches her in time to keep her shins from landing on the broken shards.

“My hero!” Sylvie proclaims, laughingly. “You saved me!”

“Uh huh,” he says with a thick swallow as he pulls her to her feet. “I guess I did.”

Severide steps inside and closes the door behind him. He and Matt trade tired yet good humored glances.

“You get them over to the couch and I’ll clean this up,” he says as he points toward the living room. 

Matt herds Sylvie and Stella to the couch with help from Foster while Severide gets a broom and dustpan and cleans up the glass.

“Can you keep them occupied while I go to the truck for something to board up that window with?” He asks Emily, motioning to Brett and Kidd.

“Yeah,” she says with a laugh. “These two are the most easily distracted drunks I’ve ever met. Go. I got this.”

He gets scrap plywood, nails, and a hammer from his truck and he and Severide make quick work of the door. Once it’s done and the floor is cleaned up, which included locating the large rock Stella launched through the window, the girls invite them to stay.

“Come on!” Stella says as she grabs Kelly’s hand and guides him to an empty armchair. “It’s late and there’s room! And still plenty of alcohol to go around.”

Foster nods. “And we owe you for dropping whatever you were doing.”

“Nothing,” Matt tells her. “We were doing nothing, just sitting around Molly’s.”

“Then you don’t have to rush back!” Sylvie chimes in. “You know you both want to stay!” She pokes out her bottom lip and folds her hands. “Please?”

He hears Severide snort before he turns a knowing smirk on him. “You drove. So, it’s up to you.”

Severide knows exactly what his answer will be. There’s no way he can refuse Sylvie’s openly pleading expression. Hell, he can’t even refuse her when she’s _not_ asking him to stay. How many times had he gone out of his way to check on her or spend time with her? She’s got him wrapped around her little finger and she doesn’t even know it. 

Christ, he’s screwed.

“Yeah, okay. Why not?” 

Sylvie’s celebratory fist pump causes an involuntary smile to overtake his face. If she keeps this up then by the time this night is over every single person in this room is going to know beyond a shadow of a doubt that he’s absolutely crazy over her.

Kidd drunkenly wanders to the kitchen to make a round of frozen margaritas and Severide follows her. The sound of them bickering in the kitchen drifts out into the living room. Foster rolls her eyes with a fond grin.

“I think I’d better go referee,” she says.

Before she leaves, she reaches down next to the couch for a blue cooler. She pulls out three beers, hands one to Brett, one to Casey, and then keeps the last one. 

“You two have fun,” Foster says with a wink.

When Emily walks away, Sylvie pats the spot next to her on the couch with a pointed look at him. He sits, careful to put a few inches between them. Sylvie very quickly decimates the buffer of space he tried to leave for her by scooting closer until they’re sitting hip-to-hip and thigh-to-thigh. 

Matt chuckles at her and holds out his beer bottle for a toast. She’s way gone at this point and with another beer and a margarita in her eventually that won’t be changing any time soon.

“To the night you’ll never remember,” he says as he taps his bottle against hers.

She laughs much louder than his lame joke deserves but he relishes the sound, as unearned as it is.

“You’re not wrong about that!” She agrees. “This isn’t a night for remembering anyway. This is the last night I’m allowed to forget with Emily. The next two nights are supposed to be _memories_. Because that’s the one thing I get to keep when people leave me.” She pauses and sadness flashes across her hazy eyes before she physically shakes it away. “Sorry, that got dark. I don’t, um, have much of a filter after this many drinks.”

Her words and the brief glimpse of heartbreak show him the cracks in her cheerful front. Since Foster announced her decision to the house Sylvie’s been nothing but vocally supportive and encouraging. Matt’s been wondering when he might start to see the hurt. He figured she’d hold off until after Emily was gone and that’s still her most likely intention.

But he feels like he needs to take this moment to address it. He’s not sure when he’ll get another one.

“You know, it’s okay to be upset about this, Sylvie.”

She snorts in an unladylike fashion and takes a long sip of her beer. Only after she’s swallowed does she turn to look at him with her glassy tearful gaze.

“I’m so goddamn tired of being upset.”

Those words make his chest ache as if the winds just been knocked out of him. He wants to keep going on this topic. Hopefully offer her some comfort, but they’re interrupted by Kidd sloppily passing around margaritas. 

Stella accidentally spills a bit of margarita down the back of Emily’s shirt causing her to yelp and hop in surprise. Just like that, Sylvie’s inebriated brightness is back and her laugh fills up the room. The moment of melancholy is gone and the last thing Matt wants is to bring it back up. After the year she’s had, she deserves a night of distraction. He has no plans to ruin that for her.

Foster suggests they play a round of “Never Have I Ever” and it gets wildly out of control. Despite Emily’s alcohol tolerance even she ends up wasted. There isn’t much that woman hasn’t done apparently. He’s not surprised. They play “Two Truths and a Lie” next. If anyone guesses your lie correctly, you drink. Matt passes on that particular game because he’s a shit liar and he really doesn’t want to be hungover tomorrow. 

As the only slightly sober person in the room, he can see that Sylvie is also really bad at this game but apparently the rest of the party is too drunk to read her tells. He learns things he didn’t know before. She starred in theater productions in high school, was in a band in college, knows how to drive a tractor, and owns a horse that her parents keep at their farm for her. He already knows all the important things about her but these little details fill in the picture just a little bit more. 

Kidd is the first to pass out. Kelly excuses them both and takes her to bed. 

“Case,” he says as he peeks back out at them from the hall. “There’s extra blankets and pillows for the couch in the closet.”

Matt nods and gives a small wave to indicate he heard him. “Thanks.”

“Well, this has been fun, kids,” Foster says as she stands and collects the empty margarita glasses. “But I’m beat. I’m gonna head to bed. Feel free to stay up. No rush. I’ll leave the lamp on next to the bed for you, partner. Okay?”

“You’re the best,” Sylvie says as she hugs Emily and gives her a sisterly peck on the cheek. “I love you. You know that, right?”

Foster laughs softly and indulges Sylvie’s meandering embrace. “I do. You tell me every time you’ve had too much wine. I love you too.”

“Don’t take the left side of the bed,” she insists as she steps back from Foster. “That’s my side.”

“Yes, your highness,” Emily quips with a roll of her eyes.

They listen to Emily shuffling around in the kitchen for a moment. She’s rinsing glasses and closing containers and throwing away bottles. Sylvie bumps her shoulder against his with a smirk.

“They all must have been _really_ drunk to not catch every single one of my lies. I cannot lie to save my life.”

He lets out a muted chuckle and nods. “As the only even remotely sober person remaining in this cabin, I can confirm. You are a _truly_ terrible liar.”

She playfully punches his arm with an offended gasp. “You weren’t supposed to agree with me!”

“What? I’m not gonna give you a fake compliment. I’m a terrible liar too! Why do you think I didn’t play?” He asks.

“Well, that’s not fair. I demand you let me try and guess your lie at least once and as I am drunk you must comply,” Sylvie says, lazily waving a scolding finger at him.

“I _must_ , huh?” He asks with an amused grin.

“You _must_.”

“Okay, let’s see. I, um, once skinny dipped in Lake Michigan, I owed a classic Mustang in high school, and I know how to play guitar in a purely mediocre capacity,” he says, glancing up at the ceiling to think as he speaks.

“The second one is the lie. Has to be,” she replies with no hesitation. “You give Severide so many judge-y looks every time he brags about his car. And you’re a stickler for going no more than 10 over the speed limit. No way you’d invest in a muscle car. _Too fast_.”

His eyebrows lift while he stares at her in wide eyed shock. She knows him better than he thought. “Damn. If we were still actually playing I’d have to do a shot.”

“I got it right?” She asks in obvious glee. 

He nods. “Yeah, you got it right.”

“You play guitar?” She looks so excited to learn that fact that he hates to tell her he’s terrible at it. He doesn’t get the chance though because she holds up a hand, palm out facing him. “Wait. That also means you went skinny dipping in Lake Michigan!” Her mouth drops open into a perfect circle before she laughs almost maniacally. “Oh my god. I _have_ to hear this story.”

He blushes and runs a hand through his hair in embarrassment. “I’d rather talk about how much I suck at guitar--”

“Nope, we’re talking about _this_ now. How did it happen? When did it happen? Tell me everything.”

He waits until he hears the guest bedroom door close so at least Foster is out of the room and there’s no risk of anyone but Sylvie ever hearing this story. “It’s nothing terribly exciting. It was in high school and...there was this girl.”

She rolls her eyes but gives him a grin. “There’s always a girl. Go on.”

“It was her idea,” he says. “And it was crazy because had we been arrested it wouldn’t have been a good look for a foster kid. But, uh, well, she was hot and _extremely_ persuasive.”

She scoffs and smirks. “I bet. Harrison and I went skinny dipping once in a pond on my parents farm. To be honest, it wasn’t very fun. Harrison had a habit of sucking the fun out of everything. Well, for me, anyway. I’m sure he had fun deflating my ego, though.”

There’s a pause and then she grimaces.

“I did it again,” she says with a sigh. “I took a lighthearted moment and made it...heavy. I’m sorry.”

“I’m not interested in an apology,” he replies. “You feel how you feel, Sylvie. Whatever you want to tell me I’ll listen. I don’t want you to feel like you have to pretend everything’s okay with me.”

She glances over her shoulder toward the closed guest bedroom door and then drains the last sip of her beer. “I don’t want her to feel guilty for following her passion. I can’t put that on her. Besides, it’s not really Foster that’s the problem.”

“It’s not?” He asks with a raised brow.

She rubs a hand over her eyes and that’s when he notices the glassy quality from earlier is back. Water is pooling in her long lashes. Now that it’s just the two of them she’s slid back down into that low place. 

She groans and shuts her eyes tightly. “No. _No_. I am not going to be that cliche crying drunk girl. I refuse.” She blows out a ragged breath and buries her face in her hands. Her voice is muffled behind her hands but to him it sounds like she’s saying the word “No” over and over again.

He reaches over and gently tugs her hands away from her face. Tears have started to fall down her cheeks, leaving behind trails of mascara. She doesn’t have to hide from him or anyone else for that matter. Making sure she knows that is important to him.

“You can cry if you need to, it’s alright. No one would think badly of you. Especially not me,” he promises while grabbing a box of tissues off the side table next to the couch. “You’ve been through hell this year, Sylvie. I get it.”

“No, you don’t,” she tells him with a shaky inhale. “Because it’s about more than just _this_ year. I mean, yeah it’s a lot of what I’m feeling right now but it’s not _all_ of what I’m feeling. God, I already cried all over you once before I’m sure you don’t--”

“I want to be here for you as long as you _want_ me to be here for you,” he says softly, cutting off what was sure to be a nervous rant. “I don’t mind you crying all over me. Cry all over me all you need. Seriously.”

“It’s just...everyone always leaves,” she confesses. “I can’t keep a partner on that ambulance no matter how hard I try. I love 61 and I wouldn’t trade riding in that rig for anything but...every partner I’ve had has wanted something _more_ or wanted me to be someone I’m not. I work my ass off every day and I don’t understand--I mean is it me? Am I the problem? Am I the strange one for _not_ wanting something more? I’m happy where I am but everyone else seems to view my job as a stepping stone or a placeholder and they all… _leave_.”

She stops and furiously wipes at her wet cheeks. He nudges the box of tissues at her, not wanting to be intrusive or keep her from saying her piece.

Her eyes are red and raw and puffy when they meet his and her pain feels _excruciating_ to him. He feels splayed open and raw -- like he’s sure she’s feeling now.

“What is it about me, Matt?” She asks as her face begins to crumple with grief and hurt. “Why am I never enough?”

“Not enough?” He asks, startled by the idea that she finds herself inadequate. That never once crossed his mind. “Sylvie…” 

His sentence fades as he searches for the right thing to say -- the perfect words. He remembers her anger after Gabby left, but he didn’t know her well enough during all the others. Not as well as he should have, anyway. He knows saying goodbye to Mills tore her up and he watched her try and treat Borelli in the middle of the street, crying as she worked. The memory of the fight he witnessed between her and Chili floats to the surface. 

When he looks back, he realizes Foster has been her most reliable partner. More reliable than Dawson, even. No wonder she and Emily became so close, so fast.

No wonder she feels deserted now.

Everyone else has left her but she never once considered Foster would be a part of that group.

It must hurt like _hell_. Especially after losing Julie and Scott moving baby Amelia an hour and a half away. 

He’s never been quite so aware of how much he feels another person’s pain before, but here lately Sylvie’s pain has become his own every single time. Her words about being tired of being upset return to him. The way old wounds now feel so fresh hits him too. He knows what being left behind feels like. He’s experienced that countless times in his own life too.

He does what he’s been wanting to do all night and wraps his arms around her shoulders. He pulls her into his chest and holds her there. Her arms slowly encircle him while she presses her face into the crook of his neck. If he wasn’t so caught up in her pain he’d take a moment to marvel at how well she fit against him, but he has more urgent concerns right now.

“You’re enough,” he assures her. “You’re more than enough. Who the hell knows why people leave, really. I’ve been through plenty of that myself. I can’t promise you no one else will ever leave again, but I can promise you something else.”

“What’s that?” She asks, her voice breaking over the words.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he declares as he dares to drop a kiss on the top of her head. He’s never done that before but she’s hurting and upset. If he can’t make an exception now then _when_ can he? “Everybody else can leave but I’ll still be right here. With you.”

Even if they never progress beyond friends he knows his words are true. He’s going to be a part of her life no matter what. Come hell or high water, he’ll be there for her when she needs him. He’s _certain_ of that. More certain than he’s been of anything for longer than he cares to admit.

“You better be serious because drunk or not I’m gonna remember that and hold you to it,” she tells him with a quiet sniffle.

He chuckles and tightens his arms around her. “Please do.”

“Thank you, Matt,” she replies. Her voice sounds far away and small. He can feel her breathing deeply against him. She’s about to fall asleep in his arms. 

He _should_ wake her up and point her toward the guest bedroom, but he’s not ready to let go of her just yet. He doesn’t get many opportunities to be this freely close to her. He’s enjoyed every moment he’s had with her tonight.

Why stop now?

**Author's Note:**

>  **A/N:** The prompts:
> 
> 16 - platonic kiss
> 
> 53- “To the night you’ll never remember.”
> 
> 24- “You can cry if you need to, it’s alright. No one would think badly of you.”


End file.
